


Through Everything I Could Only See You

by fuuckya



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, DUI, Drug Use, Gay Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuuckya/pseuds/fuuckya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘God,’ Louis gasps as Harry licks his way back into his mouth, ‘I can’t fuck you in this car.’ </p><p>'Then don’t,’ Harry murmurs, ‘just kiss me.’ </p><p>-</p><p>The story of when 4 guys become 5 and 2 become 1. Everyone is smoking joints and snorting cocaine, driving recklessly and making out in the backseat of Volskwagen Beetles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Everything I Could Only See You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first MONSTER story! I'm super excited!  
> I set a goal for myself to write over 12000 words and this came out of me.  
> Inspired by the thought of Harry and Louis is a drug filled haze, grinding and making out in the back seat of a car.
> 
> It's hard to describe all these mental states of the drugs taken in this fic, but I tried my best.  
> Also, the characterisations in this fic are pretty poor too, I wanted to focus on the drugs and Harry and Louis shamelessly grinding on each other at every chance they got.
> 
> Please ignore my geography of London as I do not know anything about it. 
> 
> (I've read and re-read this story so much my eyes and brain hurt, so I apologize for any grammar or punctuation mistakes. I wanted to get this fic out here because I've been writing it for days, I'll go back and re-read it when my head has cleared. Thanks)

‘Wake up Louis, you lazy prick,’ the voice says, so loud in the quiet room. It’s Liam, ‘You suck!’ 

Louis groans dramatically to accentuate the fact that he is sleeping and buries under the covers, cocooning himself. ‘Fuck off, Li,’ he says, voice raw and heavy with sleep. It’s probably 6am or some ungodly hour.

‘No, fuck you,’ Liam replies, voice going a little shrill, Louis will have to mock him later. He kicks Louis lightly with his socked foot, ‘it’s almost 3.’ He says it like that’s a reason for Louis to get up. He grunts and Liam kicks him one more time for good measure and steps over his body, padding away into silence. 

Louis is fully awake now and he sits up in spite of Liam, grumbling and blinking profusely, and waits until his eyes adjust to the bright light of the room. 

He’s on the floor, bundled in thousands of pillows and blankets. His head is pounding like a kick drum and he will kill Liam, he’s sworn many times before, but this time he will do it. 

The bed beside him is empty when he stands up; he recognises the black sheets and remembers that he is in Zayn’s room, sleeping on Zayn’s floor. 

The pale afternoon light filters in through the window and it burns his retina. There are no curtains in here and Louis always forgets. He can never be bothered making it to his room and usually ends up crashing wherever he lands.

He squints around the room and hears Liam in the shower in the adjoining bathroom, steam filtering out of the open door. It’s Wednesday.

Alright, it’s all coming back to him. 

He stretches his arms above his head and his spine cracks pleasantly all the way up. He wraps himself in a heavy blanket and pads downstairs to the kitchen. 

Zayn has his back to him and is in nothing but his black underwear with a cigarette dangling from his lips, his back to Louis. His hair is still quite perfect, the very tip of his quiff drooping a little. Louis takes in the lean lines of his body, the slight visibility of muscle and nods in approval. 

‘Stop staring at me,’ Zayn snaps, his words without venom. Louis smiles brightly, pushing past him to pour himself a glass water, the liquid soothing on his raw throat. 

‘You’re cranky in the mornings,’ Louis observes, his voice is sing-song, ‘didn’t get much beauty sleep? Not that you need it.’ 

Zayn huffs at him and finally lights his cigarette with a match and slaps the toaster half-heartedly, ‘I didn’t sleep at all,’ he says around the butt, taking a long drag and letting the smoke spill from his lips. 

‘How come?’ Louis asks, sipping at his water. 

‘I can never sleep when I take speed,’ Zayn points out, pressing the cancel button on the toaster, impatient. 

Louis makes a face at the half cooked bread that Zayn slathers in butter, he knows that he’s hungry but he couldn’t eat anything if he tried. ‘I can’t eat on speed,’ he says although Zayn didn’t ask. He watches him eat his toast with a frown of disgust. 

Zayn turns to him then, eyes rimmed with dark bags, his honey skin dull in the sunlight. ‘You look like shit,’ Louis adds, still frowning, ‘like Edward Cullen or something.’ 

Zayn takes a bite of his toast and a drag from his cigarette and shrugs. He motions for Louis to join him on the couch in the living room and they both flop down like their limbs were made of lead. 

They watch a marathon of self help shows as they smoke weed out of Liam’s purple dragon bong, dubbed ‘Sally’. Liam must be able to sense people using his stuff because he wanders in with a vague look on his face and a towel wrapped around his waist. 

‘Fall asleep in the shower again?’ Zayn asks, placing Sally carefully on the table and leaning back into the couch, sinking into it with a look of satisfaction, staring deeply at Oprah’s face on the TV. 

Liam takes a moment to shake his head, eyes unfocused. ‘Nah, just feeling a bit slow,’ he finally offers, flopping down next to Louis on the couch like he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, ‘Niall buys some good weed.’ 

Liam likes to smoke joints in the shower; Louis has not tested this out yet. Liam can shower for ages and when he does and he always comes out looking dazed and so unbelievably satisfied. Louis reminds himself to try it next time. 

The silence sits on them for a moment before Zayn finally speaks, delayed. ‘Yeah, he’s knows his stuff,’ he says slowly, rolling the words around in his mouth like he was pondering how to use them. 

’Don’t you have work today, Zayny?’ Louis asks suddenly, Oprah’s face is blurring around the edges. He wonders what would happen if she handed out a bunch of Sally’s to the audiences. Do people still use bongs? Maybe more people would if theirs were shaped like a happy fairytale creature.

Zayn lets out a long groan, waiting for the words to come to him. ‘No,’ he finally says, ‘John owes me like– five favours...’ he trails off and Louis is satisfied enough with his answer.

’What has our lives become?’ Liam asks sadly, he’s slipped further down the couch now and if he stays in that position any longer Louis guarantees his chin will be stuck to his chest forever.

’A fucking good time,’ Zayn says and even though Louis is mesmerised by Oprah, he can tell he’s smiling that goofy smile he wears when he’s toasted.

Liam lets out a pathetic laugh, more like a large waft of air, ‘yeah,’ he agrees dumbly.

Louis nods once in agreement and closes his eyes, promptly falls back asleep. 

-

He’s jolted awake again when Niall drops his weight onto him, laughing so manically that it is borderline psychopathic. Louis groans and swears loudly. 

‘Good morning, sunshine!’ Niall beams, kissing him sloppily on the cheek. Louis groans again, louder and pushes the blonde boy off him. 

‘You’re a shit and a half,’ he mutters, attempting to bury himself into the cushions of the couch, why won’t anyone let him sleep? ‘I just want some peace!’ he wails. 

Niall wriggles around until he’s sitting with Louis’ legs in his lap; he strokes the soft skin of his ankle. 

‘We’re gonna go pick up, you coming?’ Niall asks softly, voice placid, going from manic to peaceful like a fucking bipolar rollercoaster. Louis groans out a yes and sits up, scrubs at his eyes furiously until he can see clearly. 

’Don’t you people have work?’ Louis moans, fighting the heaviness of his eyes. Niall laughs and pats him on the knee.

’The bar is closed for renovations,’ he says, flashing a wicked smile, ‘Although when we reopen I probably won’t go back.’

Niall is dressed in jeans and a tshirt, his hair is placed perfectly on his head, blonde and soft looking. Louis wants to pet him.

‘Why are you dressed like that?’ Louis asks, throat sore. Niall winks at him and licks his lips suggestively. 

‘We’re going out,’ he replies, eyebrows rising, ‘gonna have some fun.’ 

Louis groans again and tells himself to stop because he’s killing his throat, ‘yeah, alright,’ he finally agrees, standing up on shaky legs, hands stretched out for balance. ‘How long ago did Zayn start getting ready?’ 

Niall looks at his phone, makes a face in concentration, ‘about 45 minutes ago.’ 

Louis inhales sharply, sets his stance, ‘alright,’ he says, making calculations in his head, ‘I’ll go change and we should be just about ready to go.’ 

-

Louis realises it’s almost midnight and scolds himself for wasting the day away as he gets ready. He decides to throw on black jeans and a black t-shirt, because, well. He’s given himself no other choice; he can’t remember where all his clothes have gotten too. The thought doesn’t bother him for long. 

He runs his fingers through his hair and is satisfied enough with how it sits. He makes his way out to the kitchen where Liam and Niall are finishing off the last of their speed off the kitchen bench. 

Louis takes a short hit that burns the back of his eyes and tastes like salt; he grimaces and takes a shot of vodka to down the taste. 

The five of them then pile into Liam’s old mustard Volkswagen beetle and set off into the night. 

-

They park the car in an alleyway a few blocks from the club, their usual spot. The car is so small that it can be hidden in the shadows if parked correctly. ‘Not that you should worry,’ Zayn points out as they all unpack themselves from the small vehicle, ‘Anyone who comes back here would think someone dumped it. The shit box.’ 

They make their way back onto the main street and begin their walk.

‘We’re gonna buy some stuff off this new guy I met,’ Niall explains as they cross the street without looking. They’re somewhere in the outskirts of London, where the traffic is thinner and the people are more dangerous, ‘I’ve heard good things about his shit.’ 

Liam makes a pleased sound and Louis bums a cigarette off Zayn. ‘I trust you, Niall,’ he says, lighting it and taking a long drag, ‘and I hate menthols, Zayn.’ 

The dark hair boy grunts, ‘maybe you should buy your own then,’ but Louis ignores him, focuses on the way the smoke dances in his lungs, and the way his throat is absolutely burning. 

-

They get to their usual club about 1am and slip their way in the back with the help of their bouncer friend Big Robert. 

The air inside is humid and heavy, smells like beer and sweat. Liam leads them down the narrow staircase to the very bottom floor. 

The place is wall to wall with people, deadbeats and drop outs and drug dealers everywhere. If you want to pick up, this is the place to be. They’ve been coming here nearly every week for three years, since they were seventeen. Louis feels this place is his second home.

The bass is vibrating around them, cocooning them; there is only darkness and sound. Niall signs to them that he’s off to find their pills and the rest of the boys split up to see if they can find anything else. 

Louis makes his way to the bathroom at the back of the club; he pushes and squeezes his way around the perimeter until he gets to the black door tucked in the very corner. He hopes that someone is doing lines of cocaine off the sink. He can sure do with a hit and he can charm anyone to get his way. 

Stepping into the bathroom is like stepping into a dream. The small room is damp; the blue fluorescent lights create a strange sort of ambience, eerie almost. It’s empty except for one of three stalls which is locked shut, a pair of feet behind it. 

Louis sighs heavily, drowned out by the music and checks himself in the mirror. He looks wrecked already; hairs sticking to his forehead with sweat, eyes tired but his pupils are still blown. He looks possessed and he needs another hit. 

The toilet flushes and brings him back to reality, the stall door behind him opens and a tall boy steps out. His face is pale even in the weird blue light; dark curls frame his face, sticking to him in the heat. He flashes Louis a bright smile in the mirror and goes to wash his hands. 

‘You got any pills?’ Louis says loudly over the hum of the music. The boy shakes his head, gaze flicking up to Louis in the mirror. 

‘I’ve got two joints on me and that’s it.’ He replies, voice heavy and low like the bass around them. 

‘Alright, mate,’ Louis says, shrugging, ‘I guess I’ll see you around.’ He turns to leave but a strong hand on his shoulder stops him. 

‘Let me come with you to find some,’ the boy says, breath wet and hot against Louis’ ear and shivers shoot through his system like a bullet. Louis turns and the boy is _right there_ , eyes big, pupils bigger, staring down at him. 

He’s young, has soft features like a girl, dark lips, dark eyes. Louis thinks he may be attractive in a pretty sort of way, in the harsh blue light it distorts his opinion. His mouth quirk into a smile and Louis’ realises he’s been staring at it. ‘What’s your name?’ the boy asks, eyes dancing across Louis’ face. 

‘Louis,’ he says, voice dropping a little. The boy smirks at him and there’s a mischievous glint in his eye, a twinkle of fun. He lets his hand fall from Louis’ shoulder. 

‘I’m Harry,’ he replies, motions towards the door and Louis has an almost uncontrollable urge to push him against it, to bite into his mouth and make him whimper and scream like the pretty little bitch he (probably) is. He wants to make him cum in his jeans, hot and messy. 

‘Alright, let’s go,’ he says, because how could he not. His face doesn’t even falter. 

They make their way into the swarm of people, writhing and grinding against each other like a giant, sweaty orgy. The music goes on and on and it all sounds the same, a droning beat. Harry’s hand is on the small of his back, trying not to lose him. 

Louis motions over his shoulder that they should go for a smoke, pointing to a stairwell in the far corner of the club, hoping that Harry has a pack himself. 

They ascend the small stairwell and end up outside on the roof. The air is crisp and fresh compared to downstairs. The rooftop is small and rather packed and Louis leads them through the people to his usual corner where a part of the railing has broken off. 

It’s quieter up here; the bass of the music thrums on and almost disappears as they reach their spot. 

Harry pulls out a pack and Louis can see the two joints tucked into the corner, big and fat, 

‘You smoke?’ Harry asks and for the first time Louis really get’s to look at him. The blue light in the bathroom makes him look different; it’s hard to say in which way. But outside in the white spotlights he’s definitely gorgeous. 

His hair is a dark chocolate, curls slightly in all the right places. His eyes are so green, the small rim of iris around his wide pupils are like glittery emeralds. 

Louis nods, ‘only if they’re not menthol,’ he says, knowing that he would take a cigarette no matter what it was. Harry hands him a smoke and holds the flame out for Louis to light. Louis wraps his hand around Harry’s to keep the lighter still, his hands are so small in comparison. In his mind he thinks of other things. 

Harry’s lips are cherry red, inviting as he sucks shallowly on the cigarette to light it, cheeks hollowing slightly. Louis finds himself staring again, heat spiking a little in his veins. He needs another hit. 

‘You come here often?’ Harry asks, his voice like velvet, casual. Louis snorts and inhales deeply, watches as the smoke is whipped from his mouth in the slight breeze. 

‘I’m a regular,’ he states, shooting Harry a smile. 

’Maybe I should come here more often then,’ Harry says, lets his eyes wander up and down Louis’ body, not even caring about being subtle. Louis can feel himself blushing at the blatant checking-out. 

’Don’t you have places to be on a Thursday?’ he asks, keeping his cool. Harry shakes his head. 

’No much more than you, probably.’ 

He sucks on his cigarette again, eyes wandering over the skyline. A cold breeze sends shivers running up Louis’ arms and he cuddles in on himself to stay warm. Harry is wearing tight black jeans and a long sleeved white top, the tips of his tattoos showing over the seam. 

‘Are those tattoos that I spy?’ Louis says slyly, flicking the ash of his cigarette off the edge of the building. Harry shoots him a look, eyes darkening. 

‘You might have to find out later,’ he says. Louis licks his lips and watches Harry track the movement. 

‘Why not now?’ he asks, smoothly, always a fucking charmer. 

Harry shrugs and leans against the railing casually, blowing smoke from his nose, ‘Because I’m not that easy.’ 

Louis opens his mouth to say something, sliding up into Harry’s space, their chests touching. Harry watches him move closer, eyes glued to his lips. Niall jumps on him out of the blue and effectively destroys the moment. Louis takes a step back,

‘Tommo!’ he war cries, pinching the smoke straight from his fingers, ‘Glad I’ve found you, I’ve got the goods.’ He stretches the last word out and it’s unnecessary. Niall’s fingers are shaking around the cigarette; Louis can’t even see the blue of his eyes. 

Louis shoot Harry a look and he merely smiles back, easy. 

‘What did you get?’ Louis asks, plucking the cigarette back from Niall. He inhales sharply, exhales quickly; he’s almost gagging for it. 

‘I got some pills off this guy that I was telling you about,’ Niall starts, wrapping a hand around Louis’ waist, pulling him closer like he needs something to hold on to, ‘I also took a bump from Jamie, you remember her? She was just leaving, had a little bit of hers; she didn’t have enough to sell.’ 

The words tumble from Niall in a rush, he’s shaking against Louis’ body, his excitement tangible. 

He finally notices Harry, who is watching them with an amused look on his face. Louis flicks the cigarette over the side of the railing, watches it tumble down three stories onto the street below and motions towards him. 

‘This is Harry.’ 

Niall jumps, catches him in a hug that was too quick for Harry to react to, ‘It’s nice to meet you mate, you are friend of Tommos?’ 

Harry glances up at Louis, eyes glinting, ‘No, we just met in the loo, I was hoping for some pills.’ 

Niall laughs, brash, head thrown back like it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. ‘That’s how it usually goes,’ he says, miming out a blowjob and nudging Louis in the ribs. Louis smacks him on the back of the head for being so obnoxious, cheeks feeling a little flushed. 

Harry giggles and bites his lip, shoots Louis a look of curiosity. 

Niall fishes out a small baggie from his pocket with several pills inside, white with small red speckles on the surface. Louis snatches the bag and holds it up, jingles the pills around a little. 

‘What are they?’ 

Niall smiles, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet like he can’t help himself, ‘They’re called Red Rabbits,’ he says, proud. Harry leans a little closer and puts his hand up to tilt the baggie a little, his fingers brushing Louis’. 

‘Are they good?’ Louis asks, painfully aware of how much closer Harry is than before. Niall nods, a little frantic. 

‘’ve heard good things.’ Niall promises, ‘Leon said-‘ he puffs out his chest and flexes his arms, says in a gruff voice, Louis figures he’s imitating Leon, ‘just gotta keep the high mate, if you do, you won’t want to ever come down.’ 

Louis takes two out and puts one on his tongue, swallows it dry. He hands the other one to Harry who looks a little hesitant to take it from him. 

‘I don’t have much cash on me,’ Harry offers, digging around the back pocket of his _tight_ jeans. Louis’ stare lingers, ‘but I can get some coke off a friend, he should be here soon.’ 

Louis studies him for a moment, not doubting that he won’t pay him back. He takes a moment to take him in because he’s so fucking fit.

‘Yeah,’ he finally agrees, motioning for Harry to take the pill, ‘pay me back?’ 

Harry smiles and nods, swallows the pill dry, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does so. 

Niall whoops loudly in celebration and grabs them both by the hand. He begins to pull them towards the stairwell leading back into the club. 

‘Back into the pits of Hell, boys,’ he says, leading them through the crowd, ‘Liam and Zayn are waiting for us at the bar.’ 

-

Back down on the basement floor they find Liam and Zayn lining up shots at the bar, knocking a few back without hesitation. 

Liam spots them first, licks the remaining salt from his lips, ‘Hey!’ he cries, stumbling over Zayn to catch Louis in a hug. He’s so fucking drunk, his body heavy and Louis almost buckles under his weight. 

‘Alright?’ Louis yells back, managing to stay upright until Liam finally decides to pull away, eyes glassy, smiling. He reaches around Liam to grab two shots of dark liquor, handing one to Harry beside him. 

The rest grab one as well, toasting and clinking their shot glasses together before downing them in one mouthful. The rum burns Louis’ throat and he hates rum, always has. He lets it settle; trying to keep it down, it’s warm and heavy in his stomach when it does. 

He grabs two more and watches as Harry takes his shot, licking his lips when he’s done. 

‘This is Harry,’ Louis points his thumb, grabbing Liam’s shoulder to get his attention. Liam sways a little and his eyes take a moment to focus. When they do he absolutely beams, like he’s known Harry his whole life. 

‘Hiya, mate,’ he shouts, clapping Harry on the back, ‘You feeling good?’ 

Harry laughs and returns the friendly pat, nods his head enthusiastically, ‘I will in about 45 minutes,’ he says and Louis is sure that Liam didn’t hear him because he nods politely, points towards the dancefloor and leaves without another word to any of them. 

-

They hang around the bar for a bit, people watching. Niall said something about Liam and took off, speeding through the crowd and cutting people apart like a malfunctioning bulldozer.

Zayn is really, really drunk and dancing awkwardly in the corner with his eyes closed and a small crease in his forehead. If Louis could describe it he would say it was like Zayn was having a seizure underwater, his limbs are liquid, flailing with a strange sort of grace, almost.

Harry is on his phone and all Louis can focus on is his face, the way the screen of his phone lights it up, the only thing illuminated in the club. He’s smiling down at it, tapping away furiously on the keypad.

He tucks his phone away when he’s done and Louis isn’t fast enough to look away before their eyes meet. 

Harry smiles at him and leans closer, lips brushing the shell of Louis’ ear.

‘Nick just got inside; we’ll meet him in the bathroom, yeah?’ Louis shudders and feels Harry smirk against him.

He points towards the bathroom and Harry takes his hand, their fingers locking together, and leads them back through the masses of people.

The bathroom door shuts and the music is mostly blocked out. Louis feels a little dizzy in the change of light, the overwhelming blueness of it all and he stumbles, flinging a hand out to stop himself falling over on the damp tiles. He’s a little drunk.

The bathroom is completely empty except for a tall, skinny man dressed in black fixing his hair in the mirror. Harry goes to him immediately, wraps him in a hug.

They chat for a moment and Louis can’t really understand, it just sounds like two geese bantering back and forth or something. Everything is spinning, kinda.

Finally Harry turns to him again, holding a small bag of powder in his hand, grinning like he won the lottery. Louis beams drunkenly, taking the bag from Harry’s hand to look at it up close.

‘Nick, you’re a lifesaver,’ Harry says and the man, Nick, ruffles Harry’s curls, coming up to sidle up next to him, his crotch dangerously close to Harry’s hip. Harry doesn’t seem to notice, just watches Louis play with the baggie of coke with a small smile.

‘But of course,’ Nick says smoothly and he looks down at Louis, his smile faltering.

Harry motions to him, ‘This is Louis,’ he says and Louis nods, unable to form proper words to greet him. Nick tips his head in acknowledgement and then pats Harry once on the back.

‘I’ll see you around, then?’ he says, bidding them farewell and he strides in long steps to the bathroom door, Harry watches his back as he leaves. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t’ Nick says slyly, flashing Harry a toothy grin as he exits. The door thuds loudly behind them and they are alone again.

Harry motions towards the end stall, ‘Shall we?’ 

Louis nods ‘we shall,’ he says, face breaking out into a smile as he follows Harry inside.

His stomach tightens as they squeeze themselves into the stall, bodies touching in so many places. They somehow manage to make themselves fit in the small area, and Louis can feel the heat radiating from Harry’s body. He smells like cologne and sweat and man and he’s _so_ close Louis can almost taste him. 

Louis tries not to focus on it as pours a bit of powder on the back of the toilet with shaky hands. Harry takes out his credit card and a crisp 20 note. 

He cuts the mound into two lines, lengthens them out as much as he can. They’re beautifully cut, even almost all of the way through. 

He rolls up the note as thin as it goes and takes the first line, throwing his head back and sniffing repeatedly when he’s done. He hands Louis the 20 and puts a hand on the small of his back, thumb running back and forth as Louis takes his hit, snorting the line in one easy motion. 

It tickles inside his nose and he pinches it, trying to keep himself from sneezing. He hands the note back to Harry, fingers still on his nose and Harry smiles softly at him.

‘Are you okay?’ he laughs.

Louis nods around his hand, eyes glazing over with tears, vision becoming a little blurred, ‘Yeah I’m fine,’ he says and it’s nasally, attractive he thinks, ‘it just gets me every time, _fuck._ ’

They take a moment to let Louis settle. The burning subsides but the taste is still there, he breathes through it, telling himself to not be such a pussy. ‘Okay,’ he says, shaking his vision out, ‘let’s go,’ he opens the lock and they squeeze back out of the stall. 

Louis goes to himself in the mirror and attempts to fix his hair, but his fringe refuses to un-stick from his face and he realises in that moment that he doesn’t give a shit. 

The high comes to him like a wave crashing towards the shore, it’s slow and it begins in his fingers and works its way up. When it finally reaches him it almost knocks him off his feet, a sudden surge of life that explodes inside him and settles in his brain.

Fuck. 

Harry’s watching him, eyes dark like the night sky. He looks excited, a smile pulling at his face like it will break him in half. In the strange blue light he looks like he’s shimmering, like light as it cuts through water. 

Louis has this great urge to kiss him, see what his lips feel like. He wants to run his fingers all over him, to feel the curve of muscle under the skin, to feel the life inside the cage of his body. The thought excites him.

‘I need to dance,’ he says instead, his legs beginning to shake like the earth is moving under him, he’s hit with an uncontrollable urge to move, ‘fuck, let’s go!’

Harry laughs and takes Louis’ outstretched hand and they both flee to the dance floor.

-

Louis whole body is vibrating with music; he can feel it flow through his veins like water running downstream. 

These pills have kicked in, completely zoned him in and _fuck_ he feels amazing. 

He doesn’t remember when he and Harry had locked themselves together, but they’re pressed chest to back in the mass of moving bodies. 

He can’t keep up with the fast beat of the music, his hips swaying from side to side like a slow pendulum. He feels that he can almost grab handfuls of the dense air around him, it’s like he’s swimming and flying at the same time. 

Harry is pressed along his back, hands on his hips, mouth against his sweaty hairline.

They move together, hips rotating in a dirty grind. Harry’s hands are tight around Louis’ hips, fingers digging through the material of his jeans, possessive. He pulls Louis towards him, and Louis moans when he feels it, Harry’s cock against his ass, half hard. 

Harry keeps him close, his hands gripping impossibly tighter and rubs against him, hard. Louis gasps, pushing his hips back as Harry bites into the side of his neck, teeth nipping at the skin.

Harry’s breath is hot and damp against him, tongue flicking out to lick the sheen of sweat from his skin. Louis groans, nerves on fire.

He swivels in his embrace, hands coming to grip Harry around his neck and pulls him impossibly closer. Louis’ cock rubs deliciously against the seam of his jeans and his head lolls back in pleasure before Harry can get his mouth on him.

‘God I want to fuck you,’ Louis says, the music swamping his words. Harry hears him though; eyes trained on his lips like he can’t look away, hungry. He bites his lip, chews on them until they’re plump and shiny with spit, 

‘I’m so fucking hard,’ he says and Louis kisses him. 

He slides his tongue into Harry’s open mouth and licks at his teeth. The kiss is messy, hot, and Harry sinks his teeth into Louis’ lower lip and the sting rockets through his nervous system.

They’ve stopped swaying now, and are just desperately trying to pull each other closer. Harry’s crotch is pressed into Louis’ stomach, his hands squeezing desperately at Louis’ ass, fingers so tight it’s almost painful. 

Louis pushes up on his toes, arms tightening around his neck. Harry’s biting and sucking at his lips, moaning around his tongue. Louis is so high right now he can’t even think straight enough to kiss, his mouth goes slack as he lets Harry fuck into him.

He tangles his fingers in Harry’s hair, tangling in his sweaty curls to pull him _closer_. He strains on legs, pushing up into Harry’s mouth. One of Harry’s hands have travelled down to Louis’ thigh, pulls his leg up and closer so their crotches rub together.

Louis brain is going to short circuit. 

Suddenly, they get physically broken apart by Zayn, eyes darting between them and a smile breaking his face. Louis would protest but he’s dizzy with the lack of air from kissing Harry, disorientated for a moment in the darkness of the club. 

His brain stutters to a halt, flooded with the _want_ for Harry and the love for Zayn and.

He loves this boy so much. The previous moment dies inside his brain and the rush is gone. Harry’s gone as Louis detangles himself from him, jumping into Zayn’s arms, focused completely on him like tunnel vision.

Everything else falls away.

‘I love you so fucking much,’ Louis yells, voice cracking a little. Zayn pushes him back, holds him at arms lengths and laughs, he looks alive, eyes like saucers. 

‘I love you too, man,’ he kisses Louis on the cheek and he’s buzzing, Louis can feel him vibrating under his cage of skin, ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he says. 

He leads them through the sea, swaying and stumbling through the crowds until they reach the small metal staircase. They ascend into the night, the cold air a shock to their heated skin. 

It’s quite out here; the streets are sparse of people. Niall bellows loudly into the silence and runs. He gets as far as the streetlight on the corner just a block away before he’s swinging around on it like a stripper pole and coming back. 

Zayn runs at the blonde boy, tackles him like a bear hug and they spin in the street, laughing. 

Liam is bouncing as he walks, bobbing like he can still hear the music in his head. He points in the direction of the alleyway where they parked the car. 

They all begin to move; legs shaking like adrenaline is being pumped through their bodies. They’re all talking over one another, laughing and joking. Harry takes Louis’ hand and entwines their fingers and Louis’ attention zones in on him, blocking out the noise. 

In the pale street light he looks angelic. Eyes alight with fire, lips swollen and kiss bitten. Louis can’t stop staring at him even as they stagger down the street. 

‘How are you feeling?’ Harry asks, his voice booming to Louis’ ears, wrapping around him. 

‘I feel so good,’ Louis babbles, smiling like an idiot and trembling with excitement. Harry giggles at him and stumbles a little over his own feet. Louis squeezes his hand because he can. 

‘Where are we going?’ Harry asks him, his voice like sticky syrup, lazy and slurred, eyes as big as the moon. Louis shrugs, eyes darting around the empty street. 

‘Wherever the night takes us.’ 

They turn left onto a main road, and there’s traffic and people here. It makes this depressing place feel more alive, thrumming with life and energy, moving and breathing and _living._

The drugs have settled in Louis’ system nicely, he’s feeling alert in his mind but slugglish in his body, like he can’t move his limbs properly. Harry clings to him like a lifeline; Louis can feel his pulse through his palm. It’s overwhelming, almost. 

‘Oi Harry,’ Niall says suddenly, walking a few paces in front of them, Zayn’s arm slung around his waist, ‘Why haven’t we met you until now?’ he asks it likes it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever come across. 

‘I just turned eighteen,’ Harry slurs, like his mouth won’t cooperate properly, ‘I haven’t got the chance to go out much,’ he shrugs. 

‘Well it’s fucking good then you met us then!’ Niall cries and he attempts to flail his arms, but he looks like he can’t control them either and they sort of flop like fins of a dying fish. Zayn agrees and detangles himself from Niall, with much effort. 

‘I didn’t know you were eighteen,’ Louis gasps loudly, tugging on Harry’s hand to get his attention. 

Harry shrugs, looking a little bashful, ‘I turned eighteen a couple of months ago actually. I just don’t have many friends who want to go out with me.’ 

Louis scoffs loudly and Harry giggles, gaze dropping to the floor as he watches his own feet lumbering along like a baby giraffe, ‘I don’t believe that,’ Louis says, ‘a charming boy like you?’ 

‘I’m charming when I want to be,’ Harry counters quickly, so much in fact that his words come out in a jumble, his face feeling a little flushed. 

‘Hey,’ Louis says softly, carefully and Harry turns to him, a small smile on his face. 

They stare at each other for a moment, their pace slowing down, unable to do two things at once. Louis feels like he’s made of rocks, so dizzy that he can’t even stand. ‘I’m so fucked,’ he breathes, unable to form any other coherent thoughts or words. 

Harry flashes his teeth, eyes unfocused, ‘me too,’ he agrees and they both attempt to laugh. 

‘I need to sit down,’ Louis mumbles, suddenly feeling dangerously unbalanced and at the point of falling over. The drugs have totally slowed his body down, but his head feels like he’s spinning on a theme park ride. He’s so unbelievably blissful though that he can’t seem to bring himself to care. 

Harry pulls him along with some superhuman strength and they stumble into the dark alleyway where Liam has parked his car. 

‘This is illegal parking,’ Harry comments, leading Louis to the door. 

Liam banges the top of his car with a fist and flashes Harry a cheeky smile. He slides into the driver’s side with difficulty, obviously struggling to get his legs inside. Zayn gets into the passenger’s seat with a groan. 

Niall clambers in behind him in the backseat and Harry carefully places Louis in the middle, like he’s made of china, and slides in behind the driver’s seat and closes the door. 

They all sit for a moment in heavy silence, lost in their own little universes. Louis can feel the blood pulse through his body, his head too heavy to hold up. He’s half on top of Niall, his hand still entwined with Harry’s. 

Finally Liam speaks, ‘Fuck,’ his head is pressed against the cool glass of the window, because he feels like he’s spinning, ‘I feel fucking fantastic,’ he drawls like he can’t even get the words out. 

Zayn makes a sound in agreement and kicks his feet onto the dashboard, missing on the first try. 

‘The drugs,’ he says, sounding spacey. ’The high,’ he tries again, ‘like, it comes in waves,’ he finally manages to get it out, words barely recognisable. Liam turns the car on enough so the radio starts going, some old school rock and roll is playing. Louis thinks it might be The Eagles. 

They sit for another moment to ride out the sluggishness, limbs getting heavier and mind getting wilder. The car is cool like the night outside, soothing. Louis feels like he’s skin is boiling. 

‘I can’t move,’ Liam says suddenly and he and Zayn giggle like they’re sharing an inside joke. 

‘I have cocaine,’ Harry replies, the greatest answer to an unasked question. ‘Let me get it.’ He lifts his bum up enough to rummage around in his back pockets. He pulls out the small bag of white power and Liam lets out a lazy cheer of happiness. 

‘I have tequila,’ Niall adds several seconds after, pulling a flask out of thin air and taking a long swig, he then passes it to Zayn. 

‘We all need a pick me up,’ Liam says as Harry begins to pour a line on the back of his wallet. 

He takes a hit and pours Louis a line as well, sniffing violently as he passes the wallet over. 

Louis can barely bring his head up; he has anchors on his limbs. Harry guides him to sniff the line, the wallet trembling in his big hands, and it burns just like before. Louis makes a pathetic sound in discomfort and Niall takes the wallet and baggie from Harry’s hands as they are passed over to him. 

‘Get up, mate,’ he says softly, working with Harry to manoeuvre Louis into the other boys lap. His face is squished against Harry’s chest and he’s finding it hard to breathe. He wriggles up so he’s cradled in the space between Harry’s shoulder and his neck, their fingers still entwined. 

By the time Zayn is passing the wallet to Liam he’s taking his first mouthful of tequila, his veins are beginning to spark. A new, brilliant wave begins its descent, crashing over his body and engulfing him in warmth. 

The mood of the car changes instantaneously, everyone perking up at once. Liam hands Harry the wallet over his shoulder in a rush and starts the car with excited hands.

The engine roars into life and Liam puts it into reverse and slams on the gas. They are all flung forward as the vehicle begins to move, screeching out of the alleyway and onto the empty street. 

They drive, hard and fast like the drugs in their veins, speeding through buildings with major disregard to safety and law.

‘Where are we going?’ Harry laughs, grabbing a hold of the doorhandle as Liam takes a sharp right. They’re thrown like ragdolls in a box and Niall wraps his arms around Louis as he collides into him. 

‘We’re driving,’ Liam supplies, taking another sharp turn and onto an empty highway, stepping on the gas like his life depended on it. 

Zayn rolls down his window and there is a rush of wind and sound. They speed along the straight stretch of road, just them and nothing else. 

Louis lost Harry’s hand somewhere in the rush and he fumbles to find it again in the darkness. Harry hand is warm and a little damp when they finally connect, fingers fighting to fit together. 

He squeezes Louis hand and it says; _I’m so fucked, I’m so scared, I’m so alive._

Louis leans over him to kiss him softly, lips barely brushing. Their hair is whipping wildly around them as the car reaches dangerous speeds. Louis brings his free hand up to cup Harry’s face, keeping him grounded while the world flies around them. 

It’s so irresponsible of them, driving around like they are invincible. There’s a part of Louis’ brain that is telling him he’s probably going to die tonight, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s on top of the world, high above everything else. Nothing else matters but being right here, right now. 

Harry pulls back and looks at him, his eyes wild with the adrenaline. Louis holds onto him tight, keeping him here in the moment as well, even as the world crashes around them.

He squeezes his hand back and it says exactly the same thing. 

-

‘There is so much love in this car!’ Liam cries, flailing one arm out the window, the other gripping the steering wheel tight, knuckles white, ‘I fucking love you all so much.’ 

Niall picks himself off his seat and leans to screech out the window as they whiz along the empty street, bellowing nonsense like he can’t contain it, 

‘I fucking love everything!’ he screams; body half hanging out the window. Louis has a handful of his jeans trying to keep him from falling out and smashing his head on the street below. 

They’re laughing, all of them like a strange harmony and it’s wonderful. 

They’re driving around a quiet London street; the windows of the houses are dark like the night. Houses as big as mansions covered in millions of windows, some have hedges for fences and big iron gates, guarding their big open driveways. 

They’re speeding, so incredibly reckless and so incredibly dangerous that Louis’ head swims with the thought of it. 

The car vibrates with bass, so loud and the song on the radio is distorted and all the mirrors and windows vibrate in some sort of weird dance.

Zayn is screaming a song into the night and Louis can’t even hear it, he’s not sure if it’s the same one that’s on the radio. His head is out the window, the veins in his neck are tight and if Louis knows Zayn, he knows the words pouring from him are beautiful. 

Harry is moving beside him and Louis turns to him when their hands disconnect. In the passing street lights, in the gaps of yellow in between, Harry looks different. The shadows crawl across his face like a strange animal, it distorts him almost. 

He’s fumbling with his lighter, the flame fighting the wind and with Louis’ cupped hands around his, he lights the joint, the tip sparking a beautiful orange. 

In the light he’s lovely and in the creepy shadows he is too. 

He breathes sharply to keep the joint alight and takes a few drags to get it going. He inhales, long and deep and lets the smoke swirl inside him. He lets the smoke go with a lazy smile on his face, eyes so incredibly big, full of a different universe that Louis wants to explore.

He hands the joint to him and Louis’ hands are shaking so much he’s scared he’ll drop it. He takes his hit, feels the smoke burn the back of his throat and he lets it go, stops thinking about it. Once Louis’ lips leave the joint Harry is lunging at him, their lips crashing together, Harry slipping his tongue into his mouth. 

Louis makes a surprised sound and pulls back quickly, handing the joint to Niall before connecting their lips again, their teeth clash for a moment in desperation before they get their rhythm again. Harry’s mouth is sticky with weed, tastes a little bitter sweet and Louis licks it all from his mouth. 

Harry is tugging at his tshirt with one hand, balling up the front in his fist, the other sliding up his outside thigh to grope at his ass, pulling him in. Louis tilts his head and lets Harry lick into his mouth, he sucks on his tongue and feels Harry smile against him. 

‘Up,’ he says against his lips and Louis obliges. He crawls awkwardly, still joined at the lips, until he’s straddling Harry’s lap. Both of Harry’s hands move to grab a handful of his ass and Louis moans against his mouth, Harry pushing him down to try and push their crotches together. 

Niall is toking and drinking at the same time, laughing through mouthfuls of smoke and cat calling at Harry and Louis. The words are gone before they are even heard. 

Liam crosses over an intersection without stopping, screaming wildly as he does, the horn blaring into the stillness of the night and Zayn reaches over and smacks him, slaps his arms a few times and laughs hysterically, 

‘You’re fucking crazy, Liam,’ he shrieks, his life flashing before his eyes, ‘I fucking love crazy Liam!’ 

While the madness continues around them like a whirl of noise, Louis touches tongues with Harry in the backseat, warm and lazy, the kiss slowing down. Harry’s hands have drifted up the back of his shirt, nails scratching at his sweat slicked skin, electricity shooting into Louis’ pores like voltage through power lines. 

The alcohol has kept them at in a manic state, so breathtaking and fantastic, teetering on the highest point of a mountain. Louis can feel the earth humming with life, through the wheels of the car, energy. His body tingles like his nerves are dancing inside him. He feels so incredibly amazing right now. 

‘Oh my God,’ he chants and he can’t stop himself, keeps kissing through the words. Harry hums around his tongue, pushes up against him to get right into his mouth. Their bodies fit like this. 

‘You’re so fantastic,’ he mumbles, biting sharp on Louis’ bottom lip. The pain shoots through him and then suddenly it turns into pleasure and it’s magic. 

There’s conversation around them, a symphony of sound but It’s a dull buzz in the background. Louis focuses on tangling himself in Harry’s curls so he can pull and push, get Harry to tilt his head the way he wants it. He takes control now, slants their lips together and fucks into his mouth with his tongue. Harry’s hands go slack on his waist as he just lets him. 

The car screeches to a sudden halt and Louis falls against the back of the driver’s seat, Harry’s lips never leaving his. Niall is the first to tumble out and onto the pavement. Louis’ head snaps up in worry and his hands tighten into fists. 

He loosens his grip around Harry’s curls when he sees Niall frolic off into the darkness, flask dangling from his hand, all in one piece. 

Liam is the next to go, stepping out of the car and not bothering to close the door as he wonders off into the shadows. 

‘We’re having an adventure,’ Zayn explains, when Louis looks around, confused. ‘You guys gonna come?’ He looks jittery, standing up and shaking his limbs out. He looks back at them with Jupiter eyes, chewing hard on his tongue. 

Harry’s hand wriggles itself into the tops of his jeans to finger at the cleft of his ass, Louis squeaks and jerks and Harry presses his smile into his neck. 

Liam has pulled up against the curb across the street from a park. The darkness is heavier there, the street lights stopping on the edge of the grass. The park is a creepy sort of dark and Louis would love to go and explore, see if the shadows have textures. Instead Harry is desperately trying to get a finger in his ass and he’ll gladly pass on an adventure for that.

‘No, we’re good,’ Louis says, voice a little breathy. He watches as Zayn wanders off into the night. 

Harry nibbles at the sensitive spot under Louis’ ear until Louis is focused enough and kisses him again. 

The night is silent around them and all Louis can hear is Harry’s breath against his lips. Their air is mingled together as they kiss, slow and lazy, seeking out the deep spaces of each other’s mouths. 

Harry arches up into him and whimpers, bringing his hands out of Louis’ pants. His fingers scratch from his scalp to his neck, electricity buzzing along his skin; long fingers stop to dig into his shoulders. 

Harry gasps prettily when Louis’ hands wander up his shirt, scratches lightly over the skin on his abs, his muscles jumping under the touch. 

Harry’s hands are constantly roaming around his body, like he can’t get enough of it. His hands find Louis’ ass again and he pulls him in closer, until Louis’ shins are flat up against the back of the seat, Harry wedged between them.

It’s a little awkward sitting like this, but then Harry is nibbling at his bottom lip and Louis mewls quietly, head so dizzy that he has to pull away so he can refocus. His eyes are screwed shut and he can feel the world spinning on its axis and he waits for it to stop. 

Harry takes this opportunity to attack his neck in soft kisses but it feels like needles across his skin, a delicious sort of pain. He nibbles on Louis’ collarbone with soft teeth, sucking deeply like he’s starving to leave a bruise in his wake. 

‘Fuck,’ Louis hisses, tilting his neck for better access, blood rushing to his ears. He moans softly as Harry bites him and turns to catch Harry in a kiss again, a little more heated as he tries to grind down on his lap. 

In this state he is so hyper aware of each touch, each scraping of Harry’s teeth and tongue. Every time their naked skin brushes it’s like sparks lighting between them. Louis is just waiting to catch on fire. 

He feels so hot, so restless and Harry wraps his arms around his waist and keeps him close. Louis wants to be closer yet further away at the same time, like he will burst if Harry keeps kissing him like this. But he knows he’ll burst if they stop.

His fingers are itching and Harry’s skin is smooth like silk, he can’t stop brushing against him, running the backs of his fingers across Harry’s abs, feels the hard muscle under the tender skin. He’s on a whole different level now, his brain swirling with processing all these experiences. 

Harry whines loudly, high in his throat when Louis digs his nails into the soft skin just above the waistband of his jeans. Nails biting so sharp that Harry’s whole body jerks, sensitive. 

‘Lou,’ he chants over and over like a prayer, his words getting softer and softer until he’s merely mouthing Louis’ exposed collarbone where his t-shirt has fallen off his shoulder. 

They writhe together on the shitty car seats; Harry folded so awkwardly in the small space, knees digging into the back of the driver’s seat. Louis tucked into his lap like a chair folded in half.

It’s so hard to get friction between their cocks when they’re like this, but they can’t separate long enough to move. Harry’s eyes are so round and Louis is so aware of every little detail of feeling, his skin, his lips, his hands. It’s enough to have them both sweating and panting open mouthed against each other. 

‘God,’ Louis gasps as Harry licks his way back into his mouth, ‘I can’t fuck you in this car.’ 

‘Then don’t,’ Harry murmurs, ‘just kiss me.’ 

Louis groans and he’s not sure if he’s annoyed or completely turned on, a strange mixture of both. He grinds down on Harry’s lap and he can hear Harry’s breath hitch, hips moving to try and push back against him. 

Suddenly they are hit with a wall of sound as the other boys come in from the darkness. Zayn tumbles into the passenger seat again, signing _’I was gonna clean my room, until I got high,’_. 

Liam taps on the window of the backseat, Harry breaking away from the kiss to look at him, eyes taking a second to focus. Louis grunts in annoyance and starts biting at the line of Harry’s jaw. Liam motions them to slide over in the backseat and Niall comes up behind him, rests a head on his shoulder, 

‘move over, bitches. We’re pushing the seat back.’ 

Louis looks up to protest, but Harry manhandles him and lays him down across the back seat, pushes his legs apart so he can slip between them. 

Louis head is propped up painfully against the door handle; he’s clinging onto Harry like his life depended on it. Harry groans in discomfort, twisted on the seat so he’s half sitting, half lying down. One leg is compacted, bent at the knee with his foot pressed against the door, his other flat on the ground. 

He kisses Louis hard and moans gratefully, like too much time had elapsed between them touching. 

Liam pulls the chair back and slides in the driver’s side, Niall plonking down on his lap. 

‘Ow, fucking ass,’ Liam groans, adjusting Niall on his lap until they’re both comfortable enough as they can get. Louis is surprised they fit. 

The engine kicks into life again, groaning loudly, unsure of its new commander, Niall puts it into drive and pulls out from the curb. 

He’s driving a lot slower than Liam and Zayn calls him an old man. 

‘I can’t fucking move the wheel!’ Niall exclaims, reaching over to smack Zayn. The wheel is pressed deep into his thighs and the only way he can turn the wheel is because the denim of his jeans are allowing some friction. ‘I’m not fucking stupid Zayn; I don’t want to get us killed.’ 

‘I don’t want us to get caught by the cops,’ Zayn says, punching Niall in the shoulder, ‘Harry still has some coke on him, right Harry?’ 

Harry grunts in response and a hot puff of air hits Louis in the face. Louis pulls at his hair, keeping him tongue deep inside his mouth before he can leave to answer. 

Zayn reaches over and slaps Harry’s ass and wolf whistles. Harry flails his arm in his general direction, an indication to leave them alone, mumbling something against Louis’ lips. His hand returns softly, fingers brushing ever so lightly through Louis’ hair. 

‘I take that as a yes,’ Liam says, voice muffled by Niall’s back, his face is squished against him, hands wrapped around his waist. 

‘Why are you doing this?’ Louis hears Zayn ask, sounding a little far away as Harry rubs against his crotch just right, the sensation bursting inside his head and becomes a ringing in his ears. 

Niall laughs, ‘because we fucking can,’ he says. Zayn sighs loudly and begins to flick through the radio channels. 

‘At least stop driving like Betty White,’ he snaps but his voice is fond. Niall protests something and Louis doesn’t hear it because Harry’s fingers are tugging at his earlobe and _fuck_ it’s his weakness. 

The car roars suddenly as Niall speeds around a corner, catching the wheel before they slam into a parked car. Liam swears loudly and Zayn smashes the dashboard with his fist. 

‘Yes, yes!’ he cries, ‘Come on Betty, you bitch!’ 

Louis grips onto Harry tight, ignoring the flip in his stomach as the car takes another lurching turn. They’re thrown around the backseat as Niall hits a hard left. Louis is laughing into Harry’s mouth because, shit, this is insane. 

He’s going with it, lets the insanity engulf him.

Niall takes another sharp turn, swerving as the wheel catches on his legs. Harry is thrown half onto the floor, it makes a moment for Louis to register it.

Harry looks up at Louis apologetically, kisses his chin for his troubles. Louis laughs and his head clears. He takes the opportunity to sit up, not sure how much longer he can go with Harry grinding down on him without ripping their clothes off and making him bounce on his cock in the back seat. 

Liam would probably pester them about ruining his interior.

Harry struggles when he tries to get up, pushes himself until he’s half lying across Louis’ lap and finally up into a seated position, shoving Louis into the corner behind Zayn so he can sit comfortably without being crushed by Liam’s seat. 

Louis’ goes to badger him because the door handle is digging into his side, but Harry pulls out the baggie again, the smallest bit of crumbs sit at the bottom and he shuts up. 

There’s enough for a small line for them both and Harry rubs the remaining bits on his gums. Louis kisses him deeply; thumb stroking across the silkiness of his cheek. Harry hums into his mouth and pulls away, letting his head loll against the seat, eyes closed. 

‘Wow,’ he says, the words barely leaving him. The world around them is whirling and Louis holds onto him tight in case they both go flying. 

-

‘It’s right here. Right!’ Zayn shouts, pointing furiously out the window. His arm is right in front of Niall’s face so the blonde boy bites him, leaving a temporary indent of teeth in his flesh. He turns the wheel roughly and pulls into the empty parking lot. 

‘There!’ Niall shouts back, turning the car off. He’s parked horizontally across three spots in a parking lot outside Sainbury’s. He gets out of the car, Liam groaning as the blood begins to flow through his legs again. 

Harry raises and eyebrow at Louis and motions towards the door, ‘you wanna get that?’ he asks. 

Louis shakes his head and swiftly steals a kiss from him. Harry sighs and leans in again, meeting Louis halfway, their lips lingering, ‘later,’ he mumbles and pushes open the car door. 

He straddles Louis’ lap before he gets out, pauses to smirk down at him with dark eyes. Louis whines impatiently and takes a hold of his waist. Harry cups his face, ‘promise,’ he says simply. Louis doesn’t fight him as he gets out of the car, merely sighs, exasperated when he follows him.

They shuffle around the car and Zayn takes a seat on the hood and Harry sits next to him, heels resting on the front bumper, much to Liam’s dismay. Niall, Louis and Liam plonk themselves on the ground in a sort of semi circle around the front of the car. 

Harry pulls out his last joint and lights it, twirls it around in his fingers. The smoke swirls gracefully from the tip and Harry watches it disintegrate into the night with a child like fascination. He takes a long inhale before passing it on to Zayn. 

‘It’s been a good night, boys,’ Niall says, flopping onto his back like a star fish. Louis nods his head in agreement, looking up at Harry. They share a small smile, 

‘Classic night once again, lads,’ he agrees. 

Zayn takes a long drag of the joint and licks his lips, takes one more inhale before passing it to Liam. It’s deadly silent around them as they sit in the empty parking lot, the only sound the buzz of the streetlights scattered throughout the lot and the slow crackle of weed and tobacco as it burns. 

‘This is nice, Harry,’ Liam says, ever so polite. He inhales deeply, keeping the smoke inside him as long as he can until his face turns a little red. He exhales finally and the tiniest bit of smoke pours from him, he smiles, satisfied. 

‘Thanks,’ Harry says, watching the joint as it’s passed to Niall. ‘My teacher gave it to me.’ 

‘What?’ Zayn cries, a cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth, ‘are you serious?’ 

Harry laughs a sunny laugh; Louis can’t help but to smile. ‘Yeah man, my Philosophy teacher. He’s a sweet as guy, sells everything cheap.’ 

‘You study philosophy?’ Louis asks, taking the joint from Niall, sounding a little impressed. He blows on the tip so the cherry burns bright for a moment and then dies back down. Harry shakes his head, 

‘I’m majoring in English Lit at uni; I just do philosophy as an elective,’ 

Zayn looks a little crazy with excitement, ‘dude!’ he cries, bouncing a bit on the car, Liam scolds him. ‘That’s what I wanted to study!’ 

Louis feels a little lightheaded when he’s done with his turn, hands it back to Harry who flashes him a small smile before returning to his conversation with Zayn. They’re too far in and Louis can’t even catch a tail of it, doesn’t care too much for it anyway.

Niall sighs happily and stretches like an awkward feline, hands coming up to cradle his head. Louis flops down next to him and his body melts into the concrete like hot glue. 

Everything gets a little fuzzy around the edges, like a fog has fallen over them. Everything tastes a little fuzzy too. The weed sinks into him slowly, like the setting sun and he gladly steps on for the ride.

‘Check out all these stars, man,’ Niall says dreamily, hitching his knees so they point to the sky, feet flat on the floor. Louis frowns up at the clouds. 

‘It’s cloudy,’ he says flatly and Niall snorts. 

‘Gotta use your imagination, Lou,’ he says, voice carrying like a soft song, drifting over them. Louis can’t help but laugh in a sudden burst of extreme happiness. The laughter is squeezed from him until his stomach hurts and he can’t breathe, hysterical. 

‘I love you, Nialler,’ he says between bouts of laughter, patting the boy on the hip. Niall pulls his eyes away from the sky long enough to smile at him, mouth crooked and lazy. His gaze is fuzzy. 

‘I love you, too, man.’ 

Louis is feeling immensely happy, giggles bursting from him periodically. They make some really bad Batman jokes as they stare at the blanket covering the sky, searching for the spotlight. 

‘I’m secretly Batman, you know,’ Liam interjects randomly, pulling his knees to his chest. Louis wasn’t sure whose conversation he was a part of. He hears Zayn and Harry laughing together, talking about Hemmingway or Shakespeare or some novel shit. It makes him feel warm inside and he doesn’t know why. 

‘It’s the weed,’ Niall supplies and Louis didn’t realise he had said it out loud. They both sit for a moment before they burst into hysterical laughter once again. 

‘You got some more tequila, Niall?’ Liam asks, smoking on the joint. It’s so small but still burning in his hands, he scrunches up his face as he inhales, the smoke burning his eyes. 

Niall shakes his head, tongue a little big for his mouth, ‘Nah, we finished that ages ago,’ he says, his words are fuzzy.

He takes the joint from Liam, smokes it and hands it to Louis. There’s the tiniest bit left, but Louis doesn’t want to waste it. He smokes it until it burns the ends of his fingers and he puts it out on the concrete next to him. 

They’re all watching him when he turns back, looking lazy and languid. Zayn’s face splits into a smile and he giggles for some unknown reason. It’s contagious, because Louis finds himself laughing too. Liam chuckles quietly in his corner. 

Time has completely slowed down, trickling like water. Louis feels lethargic now, body made of stone. Harry, Zayn and Liam, who are still sitting up have visibly slumped in their positions, limbs tired and heavy. 

‘What?’ Louis asks, delayed, feeling like the smile is permanently etched on his face, his muscles uncooperative. Zayn shakes his head, 

‘You’re just funny,’ he says, like it answers his question. Harry giggles cutely next to him and Louis manages to catch himself this time. ‘I wonder if Oprah is on,’ Zayn says suddenly, face lighting up at the thought. Harry snorts, 

‘Oprah?’ he says, voice about an octave higher than usual. Zayn flashes him a warning look, eyebrows raised. 

‘You don’t know the thrill of Oprah until you’re baked like a potato,’ he says slowly, waggling his finger at Harry. Harry waggles his finger back, smiling dopily. It’s Liam’s turn to snort. 

‘Do you think Oprah is on at this time of – wait,’ he pauses and looks enormously confused for a brief second, time stops, ‘what time is it?’ 

Louis fumbles for his phone in his front pocket, manages to pull it out of his tight jeans without too much struggle. He clicks a button and the screen lights up and momentarily blinds him. 

‘It’s almost 7am,’ he croaks, vision swimming with little sparks. 

‘Well shit,’ Liam says. He makes a move to stand but struggles to get up. He almost falls over onto his face but he catches himself at the last second. 

He squats with both hands and feet on the floor at once, everyone is watching him with intense concentration, like their focus can help him stand. He’s bent over awkwardly, crouching like a crab and he pushes himself into a standing position, taking a moment to balance, ‘we should head on home,’ he concludes, finally. 

Everyone kicks back into life then, focus breaking. Zayn nods and lights another cigarette, stuffing the pack into the inner pocket of his flannel top, ‘Yeah, good form.’ 

They all stand up like they have wet sand under their skin and topple back into the car. Liam pulls his seat up and Niall slides in behind him, letting himself be swallowed up by the seat. Harry climbs into the middle, curling up into Louis’ side as soon as he slides in behind the passenger seat. 

Zayn curls up against the door and stares out the window, eyes focused on the horizon. His forehead pressing into the glass, breath steaming the window. 

They drive slowly out of the parking lot and make their way home. 

Once again the mood has changed, the atmosphere has a weight to it and everyone is feeling the effects of exhaustion finally creep up on them. 

Harry snuggles closer into Louis’ warmth and closes his eyes. Louis watches the sky begin to grow lighter the further they drive, the day breaking through the dusk. The car falls into a peaceful silence. 

-

They get back to their flat and haul themselves through the front door with tremendous effort. Louis is exhausted, absolutely boneless, but his mind is hyperaware, still turning with engines on full throttle. 

It’s a strange conundrum, being so awake yet so dead at the same time. He literally drags his feet as his walks, leading the heavy-eyed herd through the entrance and into the living room. 

Zayn all but falls face first into the couch, eyes blood red and still as big as Jupiter. He lets out a pained sigh and Louis is pretty sure he will be there for the next three days, staring into space, waiting for Oprah.

Niall curls up in the armchair, knees to his chest and he looks just as dull, his skin a sickly grey colour, hair a mess. Liam shoves Zayn’s legs off the couch, so he’s bent at a 90 degree angle, feet on the floor. Liam curls into his corner and fixes his eyes on the blank TV and stares. 

‘Do you need a hand there?’ Louis asks, waiting for a moment to see if any of them move. They don’t. They all let out a synchronised grunt is acknowledgment and he turns the TV on and leaves whatever channel appears. They will just have to watch what is given to them. 

Louis knows they’ll get their second wind sometime in the next ten minutes and fire up Sally. They’ll spend the rest of the day watching mindless daytime TV until their brains break and they’re finally able to pass out.

He motions for Harry to follow him to his bedroom, because as much as he’d like to do that right now, his eyes won’t physically let him. They hurt, ache in their sockets and he needs darkness and silence and Harry, well, he’s definitely a bonus.

He leads down the end of the hall and to the last door on the right. 

It’s dark in his room, his thick curtains blocking the rising sun, peaking just over the horizon. His blankets and sheets are a tangled ball on his bed and he fights with tired arms until they’re flat on his mattress and he’s able to crawl under them. 

He takes off his jeans and shoes and that’s all he can manage before he drops onto his bed, almost breaking it in half, crying out in relief and happiness. 

Harry gets more naked then he does, right down to his navy blue briefs. He climbs in next to Louis and the bed dips under his weight. Warmth spreads through Louis as he settles, bodies close enough to radiate heat to each other. Louis blinks heavily through the weight on his eyelids. 

He and Harry are facing each other, eyes locked. Harry smiles a little, tucks his hand under the pillow under his head and curls into a ball, their knees brush.

Louis can’t help but smile back at him, lifts an arm, despite its protests, to brush the curls from Harry’s eyes. 

For the first time Louis look at Harry. He’s the most sober he has been all night, on the steady slope of his comedown and Harry still looks achingly beautiful. 

His pupils are still blown, coming down as well. The bruises under his eyes are dark, like heavy storm clouds, and his skin is so pale in the dim light peaking through the top of the curtains. He looks like a broken angel or something, tired and worn, but beautiful. 

He watches Louis with a slight frown on his face as Louis traces over him with his eyes. 

His lips are swollen and plump, a dark, blood red. Louis wants to eat them, bite them, lick them, suck them - His tongue darts out to wet his lips, cracked and dry. 

p>‘You’re getting a little intense, Lou,’ he says, voice rough like he’s just swallowed gravel.

‘Sorry,’ Louis says and it barely comes out, his throat raw. He leans down to press a little kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth instead, pulling back enough so their lips are ghosting over each other, breathing. 

Harry sighs and lets his eyes slip close, and Louis presses their mouths together once more and cuddles up to Harry’s side, their legs slotting together under the covers. 

‘How are you feeling?’ Louis asks him softly, playing with the small curls around his ears, tucking them away off Harry’s face. Harry shrugs a shoulder, eyes moving underneath his eyelids. 

‘I’m okay,’ he breathes, inhaling slowly through his nose, his voice is soft, words mumbled. ‘Like, I’m tired but I’m not.’ 

Louis knows the feeling all too well. His body is physically drained but when he closes his eyes to sleep the darkness becomes colour, everything begins to waltz inside his head. He’s dancing inside the casket of his body. 

Louis refuses to let his eyes close, even though there are anchors attached to his lashes. He is so drawn in by Harry’s angelic face. He leans up to kiss his nose and Harry’s eyes flutter open, eyes a shocking green. A smile tugs at his lips and he kisses Louis him gently and after a moment they both have to pull back to breathe. 

Louis takes the opportunity to move so he’s on top of Harry, and Harry’s legs fall open. Their touching from shoulders to hips, skin buzzing. Louis kisses him again with more intent, coaxing his lips open with the tip of his tongue. 

Their lips mould together perfectly, like it was meant to be. Harry tastes faintly like weed and alcohol. The kiss is sticky; the soft sounds of their tongues and lips fill the room. 

Louis detaches himself to kiss down Harry’s chin, pressing kisses along his jaw line, and down the tendon in his neck, he peppers kisses along the column of his throat and nips lightly at the skin. 

Harry tilts his head back and his breath catches. Louis takes his time to suck a bruise into his pale skin, Harry whimpering the whole time. He makes the bruise nice and dark, kisses it lightly when he’s done. He props himself up on his elbows to look at him properly. 

Harry’s lip is caught between his teeth, eyes closed. Louis takes a moment to watch him, can almost see the patterns swirling in his mind. He gets back to his exploration, pressing a kiss in the hollow of his throat as his hands rake down Harry’s sides, his skin breaking out in goosebumps. 

He only just notices the swallows tattoos on his chest, the ink a stark contrast to his milky skin. Louis smiles and brushes his lips against them. Harry shudders.

’Swallows?’ Louis asks, pressing the words into the ink, letting them sink into his skin like the tattoo. Harry nods, fingers skating up Louis’ arms, barely brushing his skin. 

’For freedom and love,’ he croaks out. 

Louis hums and kisses each one, drags his fingers back up Harry’s sides and brackets Harry’s chest with his arms so he can hold himself up as he kisses down Harry’s body.

He teases Harry’s nipple with a pointed tongue, drawing circles around it. His other hand comes up to walk down Harry’s ribs, dip his fingers into the gaps, scoping him out.

Harry huffs out a breath and twitches from his touch, whispering, ‘don’t’, ticklish. 

Harry shifts so his legs wrap around Louis’ middle, heels against the backs of his thighs. Louis shifts so his knees dig into the mattress, their cocks aligning. Harry’s hips move on instinct at the feeling of friction, his half hard cock rubbing against Louis’. He gasps softly.

Louis smiles and presses small kisses down the lines of his collarbones, seven on each side, fingers dancing on the dip of his hips.

Harry’s hands are in his hair, playing softly with the strands. He tugs lightly to get Louis up to kiss him again, his mouth still as Louis licks into him. 

‘Can I fuck you?’ Louis mumbles against Harry’s mouth. He grinds their hips together, his breath hot on Harry’s face. He whimpers and pushes up against him, 

‘Yes,’ he hisses, digging his heels hard into him. Louis licks at his top lip, takes the bottom into his mouth to nibble at it, pulling it with his teeth. 

He picks himself up to slide down Harry’s body, biting into the skin of his chest. He takes his nipple into his mouth, rolls it around between his teeth. He presses a lingering kiss to the spot right above his heart. Harry’s hands grip the short hairs at the back of his neck and he lets out a shaky breath, squirming. 

Louis leans up to kiss him once, pulling back slightly so their lips are barely touching, ‘do you want me to use a condom?’ he asks. 

Harry swallows and titls his chin to kiss him again. He nods slowly, ‘yeah,’ he whispers, hand coming up to bursh his fingers through Louis’ fringe, he flushes and a soft pink crawls up his neck, cheeks, ‘it’s just because I don’t know you,’ he kisses Louis’ again, ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Louis can’t help but smile at how endearing Harry is, ‘don’t be,’ he assures, pecking him quickly before sitting up. Harry’s legs fall away from his waist, spread shamelessly on the bed and Louis has to stare for a moment to take it in. The head of his cock is poking out from the top of his briefs, red and wet.

Harry takes his underwear off without hesitation, lifing his hips and struggeling a bit to pull them off. He throws them off to the corner when he’s done, spreading his legs again for Louis to see. 

He’s full hard, aching almost. He spits into his palm and takes his cock in his hand, long and beautiful and strokes it. He’s teasing himself with slow, methodical strokes, squeezing at the head and twisting at the base. 

He’s putting on a show, and he bites his lip and whimpers softly watches Louis watching him work himself over. 

Louis stands to quickly undress, and Harry blatatnly stares, eyes roaming over the plains of his body.Louis flushes slightly at the way Harry’s eyes bore into him, eating him with this look of pure want. 

He rummages around his bedside draws for lube and a condom. He’s been half hard all night and the reminants of pills in his bloodstream and Harry’s taste has his hands shaking with anticipation. He manages to find one condom and a packet of sample lube and he clambers back on the bed. 

Harry pushes his legs further apart, lets Louis settle between them, sitting back on his heels. 

Louis leans down and licks a fat stripe on the underside of Harry’s prick, feeling it jerk under him. Harry mewls quietly but pushes him back with a hand on his forehead, the other wrapped around the base of his length.

’No –‘ he has to swallow to catch his breath, ‘No foreplay. Please,’ he looks down at Louis and his eyes are almost all black and Louis doesn’t need to be told twice. It’s driving him insane that he’s not already inside Harry, so overwhelmed with _want_ for his body that he simply nods and tears open the packet of lube. 

He pours too much on his hand by accident, but he doesn’t care. Harry is already lifting his knees, spreading his legs just that little bit more, waiting for Louis with glassy eyes. 

‘Grab a pillow,’ Louis suggests, his voice rough and airy as he slicks up his fingers. Harry reaches for a small throw pillow next to his head and wriggles it under his hips. 

‘I’m ready,’ he whispers, voice like a rich velvet. His thighs are quivering. Louis swallows thickly and lines up his index finger against Harry’s hole. He fingers the rim, spreads the lube and feels the muscles flutter under his touch. Harry’s hips jerk the slightest bit and he clenches, let’s out a small breahty laugh. 

Louis slips the tip of his index finger in and Harry’s body gives way easily, then he’s sliding in to the knuckle and Harry’s jaw goes slack. Louis’ biting his lip so hard it hurts as he fingers Harry gently, pushing and pulling and squeezing a second finger in not long after. 

Harry doesn’t make a sound, but his breathing grows a little heavier and his hips begin to rock on the bed. He looks up at Louis with pleading eyes and Louis slips a third finger inside. It’s met with a little more resistance but Harry responds positively, gasping quietly as Louis rotates his wrist a little and pushes. Harry let’s out a surprised gasp, body clenching.

Louis’ head is whirling a mile a mintute, he’s trembling with want and desire and Harry is panting under him, hips bearing down on his fingers. He angles his hand again and Harry swears loudly, throwing his head back as Louis presses on his prostate.

‘Oh,’ Harry moans quietly, when Louis nudges his prostate again, ‘okay, okay,’ he pants out, hand coming down between his legs to wrap around Louis’ wrist, forcing his hand away, ‘Don’t tease me,’ he says. 

His eyes are dark, cloudy with lust and Louis is shaking as he tears open the condom and rolls it down his shaft, slicks himself up with the remaining lube. 

He picks Harry’s legs up, wraps one around his waist and rests the other calf on his shoulder. Harry’s hands immediately wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close. 

‘If you need me to stop-’ Louis trails off, pausing to get his thoughts into focus. Harry’s looking up at him with big, innocent eyes and he can’t think properly, ‘just tell me, okay?’ he finishes in a gasp. 

Harry nods quickly, biting down on his tongue. Louis lines himself up, his cock nudging Harry’s hole. He takes a breath to steady himself and pushes in. Louis slides into him surpisingly easy, although there was initial resistance. Harry’s relaxed and pliant after Louis opened him up, exhausted from their long night. His muscles give way easily but Louis is unable to move any faster even if he tried. 

He watches Harry’s face, the way pain and then pleasure cross features. His eyes slip shut and he lets himself take it. Harry is tight around his length, so hot. He clenches once Louis is all the way in, cradled against his hips, getting used to the feeling. 

’Are you okay?’ Louis asks, leaning down to nuzzle at his cheek. Harry sighs content and nods, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. ‘You feel amazing,’ Louis whispers against his neck, tucking a secret away in there and sealing it with a kiss. 

Harry whines softly, a shudder racking through his body that Louis can feel around his cock, and he gasps when Louis’ hips moves the smallest bit.

‘I’m sorry,’ Louis says quickly, surging up to kiss Harry sweetly, dipping his tongue between his lips. Harry shakes his head and breaks the kiss to breathe. 

‘It’s good,’ he gasps, rocking up against Louis, trying to get him deeper, ‘ _please._ I need more.’ 

Louis starts to fuck him, rocking against him at first and keeping himself deep. Harry bites his lip and whines, getting louder as each thrust grows.

It’s so hard coming down. It’s horrible. He always feel so lonely, so sad, so tired, but not tired enough to sleep. The effects of the comedown is shit. You experience the high, you have to experience the low as well.

Louis didn’t think it was possible to have sex during the come down.

But he tries not to decipher that thought, right now all he fouces on is Harry. Harry makes something feel different. 

He can’t stop touching his chest and face with his lips, tasting the salt of his skin. His hand strokes his thigh, digs his nails into the flesh. Harry’s skin is so soft and warm, and he whimpers quietly each time Louis kisses him. 

Louis wants to be this close to him forever, wants to crawl under his skin and stay there when he’s feeling blue and hitting rock bottom hard. He feels valnerable, usually, but Harry makes him forget about it all. All he can think about is the taste of Harry’s skin, his tongue, his fingers. 

That’s all he wants to feel right now. 

‘Oh, fuck,’ Harry moans against Louis’ lips, rolling his head on the pillow. Louis attatches his lips to his neck, bites him. He pushes his weight down on Harry’s body, and Harry takes it, just jerks and mewls quiety. 

He turns and captures Louis in a kiss again, drives is tongue into his mouth as Louis bottoms out. He pulls up, clutches the thigh of Harry’s leg that’s thrown over his shoulder, pushing his fingers into the flesh so hard there’ll be marks left for days. He hopes so.

He pins Harry down, the other arm shaking in the effort to hold himself up. He grinds against Harry’s ass, cock deep inside him.‘I’m not going to last long,’ Harry warns, voice catching, hips rolling down to meet Louis’. 

‘Neither,’ Louis agrees breathily, grinding down hard. He’s been halfway there all night, dry humping Harry at every chance he got, they’ve been working each other up all night, making promises for later. His blood is boiling under his skin, the arousal burning in his gut. He’s definiately not going to last. 

He must hit that spot because Harry throws his head back and moans loudly, going tight around Louis’ for a brief moment. They can probably hear them in the other room. He wants them to. 

Louis looks down between them, Harry’s cock is dark and leaking, both their stomachs wet with precum. Louis goes for it, pulling half the way out and slamming back in, chasing his orgasm.

Harry moves against the sheets with the force of the thrust, his moan dying in his mouth. Louis fucks into him, his arms aching. There is a slapping sound of skin on skin and Harry reaches down to stroke himself quickly in time with Louis’ thrusts. Louis watches him work his foreskin up and down his shaft, he’s so wet.

Harry stats chanting now, cursing over and over again as Louis drives into his body. He’s clenching around Louis’ cock, thighs shaking and abs tightening. ‘I’m gonna cum,’ Harry warns voice high and breathy. 

With one last tug he’s cumming, shooting up his stomach. Louis bottoms out once more, closes his eyes against the feeling of Harry going so incredibly tight around him. He grinds quickly and then he’s cumming too, shooting into the condom with a choked sob. 

He still moves gently against Harry as they both ride out their orgasm. Harry’s leg fall from Louis’ shoulder, spread out on the sheets. They kiss lazily, tongues everywhere. Harry’s hand comes up to tangle in Louis’ hair, scratch lightly at his scalp. They pull back a few moments later, trying to catch their breath. 

Harry looks so sweet and blissed, smiling giddily up at Louis. Louis presses a smile to his cheek and kisses the corner of his mouth. 

’Are you okay?’ he asks softly and Harry nods, swallows thickly. 

’I feel amazing,’ he sighs and Louis has to kiss him again, nibbles on his bottom lip to make him smile and blush. 

’Is it okay if I-’ he trails off when Harry nods again. He slides out of him carefully, arms trembling as he holds himself up, and Harry gasps when he’s gone. 

He discards the condom improperly over the side of the mattress and helps Harry clean up with some tissues he found next to his bed. Harry curls into him immediately after, their legs tangling under the blankets, facing each other once again. 

Louis can’t help but brush his fingers over Harry’s face again, tuck the curls that have fallen out from behind his ear, his skin is burning to the touch. ‘Hello,’ he smiles. 

Harry yawns and takes Louis’ hand from his face and plays with his fingers instead, entwining them once he’s done, their palms touching. ‘Hey,’ he croaks, eyes slipping shut. 

-

Louis doesn’t remember falling alseep, but he wakes up and Harry’s still there. He’s still sleeping, lips parted a little and breathing softly. Their hands are still entwined losely near their heads and Louis smiles. 

He doesn’t know what time it is, doesn’t really care. He ends up falling back asleep not long after. 

-

Next time he wakes is to the sounds of life in the kitchen, the sizzle of the frypan and tired laughter. He groans loudly and opens his eyes and get’s a little shock when he sees that Harry’s still there. 

He’s watching him with a smile playing on his lips, ‘Good morning,’ he says, voice still raspy and thick. 

It’s not as bright in the room anymore, a sort of dull grey colour filters into the room that is only produced when clouds are covering the sky. 

His eyes close against his will and Harry’s face turns into darkness. ’What time is it?’ he asks and Harry laughs sofly, tracing the bridge of Louis’ nose with one finger. He scrunches his face up at the sensation. 

’You don’t want to know,’ Harry says and Louis grunts, ‘no seriously!’ Harry laughs again, ‘I had a minor mental crisis for a moment when I found out.’ 

’Thanks for being considerate then,’ Louis says, sticking out his tongue as Harry brushes over his lips with his thumb, he catches a bit of Harry’s taste. They both smile. 

He opens his eyes after a moment, feeling a little more awake and Harry lifts himself up to kiss him soflty, pecking his lips and letting it linger. Louis has to stop himself from pushing his tongue inside Harry’s mouth. They break apart and smile at each other. 

Harry looks more conscious but his eyes still a little sunken. But he’s just as bright and cheery, light radiating from him, just like when they first met all those hours ago. It’s all a blur of cocaine, tequila and messy kisses, now.

He moves off his shoulder and feels the ache in his neck from sleeping in the same position all night, he groans loudly and rolls onto his stomach, hands coming up to cradle his head under his pillow. Harry shifts to kiss his bare shoulder and Louis can spot a smatter of bruises on his neck, thinks he can see teeth marks. 

Harry pillows his head on Louis’ arm and sighs, sharing a secret smile with him. 

’Thanks for staying,’ Louis croaks out, the words brusing his voice. Harry only smiles wider.

’Thanks for bringing me home,’ he counters. They watch each other for a moment, listening to the noise down the hall. Louis is postponing his leaving his bed as long as he can, hopes Harry is too.

Harry begins to draw patterns on Louis’ shoulderblade and his eyes drop to follow the movement of his hand. His eyelashes fan across his cheeks and Louis’ swears he can feel Harry write their names one on top of the other, Louis shivers.

’What are you doing this weekend?’ Louis asks quietly and Harry’s eyes are drawn back up to him, blue and green. 

’Dying, probably,’ he answers with a smirk and Louis snorts, 

’Me too, probably.’ 

He suddenly get’s this strange feeling in his stomach, he’d think it’s hunger but the last thing he wants to do is eat. The ride he had been spinning on all night has left him kind of nauseas, but it’s not that either. His stomach flutters pleasantly.

Harry’s still watching him quietly like he’s expecting him to speak so he says, ‘you wanna go out to dinner with me sometime?’ the words falling from his mouth before he can even stop them.

He’s taken aback by his own words for a moment, but he shakes the thoughts away. 

He feels owes it to Harry to spend time with him sober, so they can talk about university and movies and food. He wants to hear all the smart things Harry has to say, wants to be able to focus on him without the colours smudging behind him like a fucked up painting. 

He wants to take Harry out because somewhere in the very depths of his mind he’s scared this was a one time, drunken, drugged up thing and he doesn’t want to never see him again. He wants to get to know Harry without the world spinning violently around them. 

Harry’s hand stills on his back and his gaze sweeps across Louis’ face, ‘I’d love to,’ he finally says with a small smile. 

Louis thinks that something special is about to happen.

Louis shifts to kiss him, ignoring the ache in his neck. He sighs when he pulls back, head swimming with the kiss and it’s a good kind of dizzy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> Feedback is always appreciated.


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